Bound by Desire
by IcingDeath71
Summary: [repost][edited] Legolas is forced into bondage when captured by a royal delegation returning to Gondor. His sole hope lies in Aragorn, the King's steward. AU, slash, AL, BL, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death.
1. Part 1

**Title**: Bound by Desire

**Part** : 1/5

**Author** : Swilite

**Rating**: R

**Pairings** : Aragorn/Legolas, Boromir/Legolas, Implied Boromir/Aragorn

**Warnings** : Slash, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything, it's just a fantasy we all share. Don't sue. All characters are wonderful figments of Tolkien's imagination.

_**PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If ANY of these themes bother you, do not read this story. I cannot emphasize it enough.**_

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_Hey all, it's X, now working under the alias Swilite. See my main page for more info, and I'm open to emails._

_This story is very AU. In it, Boromir is the King of Gondor and Aragorn is his Steward. Eomer is the King of Rohan (Theoden died... or whatever)._

_Also, some of the elvish traits in this story do not match those that Tolkein created. In Bound by Desire, Legolas CAN feel the cold, and random things like that. Legolas is also portrayed as much younger in this story._

_This story is written from Aragorn's point of view. (Yes, apparently, hell has frozen over.)_

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I first set eyes upon Legolas as our royal delegation was returning from a short visit in Rohan. 'Twas King Boromir's decision to return by way of Fangorn Forest, and one night as we were camped along the border of Fangorn, two guards returned with a bound elf in tow. They reported that they had found him bathing, deep in reverie, and they had been able to catch him off guard. Although his hands were bound behind his back and his captors had not the decency to clothe him, he remained upright, glaring at us through liquid silver eyes. Beside me, Boromir shifted and I could tell by his speechlessness that the King was as captivated as I. The elf straightened his stance and regarded us, proud even in nudity.

Boromir moved forwards, leaving me in solitude and approached the bound elf. Only a step away he halted, raising a hand and placing it upon the elf's shoulder as he ran his eyes approvingly over the immortal's body, surveying him as one would a piece of property. The elf recoiled under his gaze, automatically stepping backwards to evade the King's eyes.

'Bind him and see that he has no way to escape tonight,' Boromir ordered, advancing as his captive retreated until he could back no further, blocked by the guards that held his upper arms in a firm grip.

Boromir watched hungrily as the elf was led away towards the guard's tent, his bold eyes following the elf's supply body, admiring the slight sway in the pale hips. I diverted my eyes, unwilling to allow my interest to supply the already wounded elf further degradation.

Morning arrived and to my surprise, I found the elf appointed to my care. As we were readying our mounts for yet another day of the journey he appeared alongside the same guards that had captured him the night prior. Today however, he kept his eyes downcast in an attempt to avoid any unwanted attention, void of any of the energy he had possessed last night. At the King's request he had been given a pair of breeches and a simple tunic to hide his body though his hands remained bound tightly behind his back, his wrists red from aggravation and possibly infection. When a noose made of coarse rope was placed around his pale neck and the opposite end given to me, he raised his head and I caught a glimpse of a dark bruise covering his left cheek, evidence of either a brief scuffle during the night or simply the mark of bloodlust.

Although our entire party was mounted and the elf quickly learned that he was expected to run alongside us, he protested naught. His elven endurance far surpassed that of a human, and since we kept the horses as a fairly slow speed, he had no problems keeping the pace.

The elf was inquisitive and talkative, the curiosity of youth evident in our captive. It was during that day that I learned of his name and confirmed my suspicions that he was from Mirkwood the Great. I was informed that he was visiting Fangorn on his father's leave and no suspicions of his disappearance would become evident for several months, for his father was well aware of the vast distance between Mirkwood and Fangorn.

That night, instead of returning Legolas to the guards, I brought him to my tent and released his wrists while he remained in my company.

'Thank you,' he replied, rubbing the tender skin and rinsing it in the bowl of water I had placed before him. I took his arm and raised it for my inspection, noting the inflammation and the deep gashes where the cord had rubbed past the outer layer of skin. Legolas remained in silence until my scrutiny was complete and I informed him that I would tend to his arms.

Since my youth and the days where I lived in the house of Middle Earth's most skilled healer, it has always been drilled into my mind to carry a sufficient amount of supplies in case of an emergency. Fortunately I was able to mix a simple gauze that would ease the rope burns and chase away any infection that was beginning to set in, and Legolas watched in fascination as I smoothed it along the irritated skin.

'Are you a trained healer?' he asked, pulling his arms from my grip to survey the medicine until I grabbled his hand and returned to my task, not allowing him to withdraw until I was complete.

'Nay. I am the Steward of Gondor. It is merely chance that I am also a healer.' I supplied no more information, despite Legolas' infinitive protests and questions. My task finished, I leaned back and surveyed my work in satisfaction. 'I cannot bind your arms tonight if those marks are to heal, yet I will not risk your escape. What promise can you make that I can believe?' I asked.

'I give you my word,' Legolas replied, as though the word of a prisoner still held any value in anyone's eyes but his own. I watched him and he shifted uncomfortably under my hard gaze until I nodded.

That night Legolas slept in my tent, a long silver chain connecting his right ankle to my wrist in the offshoot chance that his desire for freedom would overcome any promise he had made. Legolas watched sullenly as I locked the cuff in place, his disgrace that I had not believed him obvious in his surly stance. I gave him one of my cloaks to warm him and folded a tunic for a pillow and the moment he stretched out on the ground at the side of my bedroll he fell into a deep sleep, acquiring the rest he had apparently not received while enduring the torment of the guards the night prior.

I remained awake for a while, watching his back rise and fall with each breath he took. Frequently, I had to remind myself that he was now Boromir's possession, yet try as I might I was unable to halt the strange feelings Legolas awoke in me. It appeared that I was the sole person the elf even showed a shard of trust towards. No, I corrected myself, not trust, for Legolas would never be able to trust those that had imprisoned him, what he showed me was a hint of friendship. Was it my Elvish upbringing that he was drawn to, or perhaps it was the fact that I was the only person who did not watch him with open greed and desire?

Morning arrived far to quickly for my wearied body, and I was surprised to find Legolas sitting upright and watching me calmly. He smiled and shifted closer when I gave a small groan and gave my shoulder a gentle shake when I would have simply rolled over and returned to sleep.

'You should not be in any rush to resume travel,' I scolded. 'Boromir will want to claim what is his once we have reached Minas Tirith.'

Apparently, the innocence of youth had it's effect, and Legolas did not understand precisely what I meant. I did not press the matter and rose, unlocking Legolas from his bind to me and handing him over to one of the guards outside as I changed my clothing. We had hardly been riding for half the day when Boromir cast me a warning glance, apparently irritated by the constant chatter that stemmed from our young captive. He drew his horse alongside my own and leaned in towards me, signaling that I should do likewise.

'I want my elf slave properly trained once we reach our destination, I will have none of the carelessness he exhibits at the present. As my Steward, you are well aware of the steps that I want taken in order to achieve such obedience.' I nodded, swallowing the emotions that rose within me and Boromir urged his horse forwards, casting a finally glance in my direction.

I returned my attention to Legolas who, at the moment, was silent. Mentally, I urged him to remain as so, but my luck was short lived.

'When shall we enter Gondor?'

'Be silent,' I commanded. Much to my dismay, the elf refused to respond to my verbal warning, and continued as though I had not spoken.

'This is the farthest I have ever been from Mirkwood-'

I raised one hand and slapped him forcefully across the face with enough strength that he stumbled in surprise, giving a small yelp of pain as the coarse rope dug into his tender neck. Hiding my emotions and regarding the elf with hard eyes, I repeated my former command.

'Be silent.'

For once, Legolas was at a loss for words. I cast a quick glance in Boromir's direction and the caught the King's eyes upon me. He gave a small nod and a coy smiled before returning the conversation around him. Legolas walked in silence, his eyes wide in surprise. Within minutes, his shock had quickly faded into anger and he hunched his shoulders, dropping his eyes to the ground in protest of the forceful treatment.

I had only to repeat my physical command once through the entire day, and when we retired for the night I brought Legolas with me yet again. Still upset from the earlier events of the day, he refused to speak with me at all except to thank me quietly for replacing the gauze upon his wrists.

That night, I slept soundly, and in my fatigue I forgot to shackle Legolas to me. When I awoke the next morning Legolas lay beside me, his eyes half lidded and unfocused as he dreamed.

'Wake Legolas,' I told him, shaking him gently and watching as his silver eyes sharpened as they focused upon my face.

'Is it morning already?' he asked, the lack of nutrition beginning to take effect on his energy.

'Aye.'

Legolas got to his feet, and it was only then that I noticed the lack of restraint.

'You had the chance to flee, yet you did not?'

Legolas raised his eyes, watching me in amusement. 'I gave you my word.'

'Thank you,' I replied. 'I would not have liked to have been responsible for the escape of Boromir's new possession.'

Legolas shrugged and diverted his eyes politely as I pulled my tunic above my head, leaving my upper torso bare as I searched my belongings for a clean garment. At last, I found one suitable for a long day's ride and quickly folded the remainder of my belongings until the majority were small enough to be tied to the back of my saddle and the remainder would be stored upon the pack horses King Eomer had given us as a parting gift.

Once my horse was saddled and prepared I returned to Legolas, who waited quietly where I had left him. A single guard stood suspiciously close by, watching the elf with a predatory look on his rugged face and I cast him a warning glance before reaching Legolas' side.

I wrapped a hand around Legolas' arm and pulled him ahead, unhappy of the attention he was attracting.

'You will behave today,' I told him, placing the familiar noose around his neck and mounting my stallion. Legolas nodded in agreement and stood in silence until Boromir motioned for our company to begin the day's travel.

We halted once in the afternoon and I checked Legolas' wrists, content to see that a small red scratch around each wrist was the sole evidence of the injury two nights prior. Elven healing truly was a blessing, for I had promised Boromir that his elf would be properly bound today and I had been brooding the entire trip on what I would tell the King were Legolas' wrists unfit for the bind I would supply. I was given a pair of cuffs and I could only hope that the metal would not become too heated by the day's end, for heat would irritate the cuts further.

I snapped the metal in placed around Legolas' outstretched arms and placed the key the pocket of my tunic. As was becoming custom, the elf said naught and simply allowed me to do as I would.

After I was fed and watered we resumed travel, and looking upon Legolas I felt pity, for the elf had received no nourishment nor any water since his capture. That night, I promised myself, I would allow him the remainder of my waterskin, for there were constantly clean rivers and springs in which I could refill it.

It was a sweltering day and by midday even I, dressed as comfortable and light as one may be in the presence of the King, was sweating profusely. The guards around me rode in silence, begrudging their choice of uniform, and though I felt sorry for them, none had my empathy more the Legolas who stumbled along wearily, often raising his shackled hands to pry away the hair stuck to his face and wipe the fresh layer of sweat that had broken out upon his brow. He was panting heavily and even seated upon my mount, who was by no account short, I could hear his ragged breathing. He stumbled frequently as the heat leached his remaining energy and I could do naught but look upon him, unable to offer my aid incase Boromir think me soft and place Legolas in another's care.

Thankfully, the King had had enough of the cursed temperature and we halted at the borders of the first forest we came upon, blessing the shelter their shadows supplied.

'Never again,' the King cursed, 'shall I leave Minas Tirith during the summer. How I long for my chamber at moments such as this.'

'Yes,' I agreed, thinking longingly of the cool study I could be within were I not required to accompany each of Boromir's delegations. I removed the noose from Legolas' neck and he sank to his knees, placing his palms as far apart as the shackles would allow and placing them flat against the cool dirt.

'Rise, Boromir will not be content if you spoil you clothes,' I told him, offering no aid as he gave a small moan and resumed his footing, leaning heavily against my stallion for support.

The majority of the guards had pitched their tents and I did likewise, pulling the flaps aside should a slight breeze blow and resting upon my bedroll. Legolas joined me, sitting by my side and watching the activity outside with unfocused eyes.

I know not what we did wrong, but the Valar insisted on punishing us and in direct contrast to the sweltering day, the night was extremely cool and bitter. Legolas trembled, unable to find enough warmth in the light tunic so I gathered him in my arms, holding him until the worst of his shivers had subsided and then giving him a warm cloak to rest in. He wrapped it tightly around his body and joined us for a small fire outside, wisely keeping silent when small trees and living boughs were cut to supply more fuel for the flames.

That night I fell asleep with Legolas in my arms, his head tucked beneath my chin and my arm draped protectively around his waist. The moment we lay down he fell asleep and I too was pulled into the world of dreams without delay, sleeping soundly for the first time since leaving Edoras, unaffected by the temperature beyond the ethereal body pressed tightly against my own.

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_Please review! The next part will get posted in a couple of days if I have sufficient feedback._


	2. Part 2

**Title**: Bound by Desire

**Part** : 2/5

**Author** : Swilite

**Rating**: R

**Pairings** : Aragorn/Legolas, Boromir/Legolas, Implied Boromir/Aragorn

**Warnings** : Slash, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything, it's just a fantasy we all share. Don't sue. All characters are wonderful figments of Tolkien's imagination.

_**

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If ANY of these themes bother you, do not read this story. I cannot emphasize it enough.

**_

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_Slashyness starts in this chapter. Once again, let me stress that if you are not a slash fan, PLEASE do not be reading this. Things get pretty intense after this._

_You have been warned .- dramatic music-_

I would just like to clairify -why- this story is being reposted. Originally, it was banned. So I cut down on the graphic parts, and posted it as a -huge- one-shot, which is truly how it was written to be. In the meantime, this site installed a 'quick edit' feature that, ironically, only allows up to 5000 words. My story, being 4 times that long, was mutilated. This site no longer allows some of the breaks I use to define between times, notes, ect, so the formating of BBD was horrid. I suffer from OCD, and could bear to see my story posted in such a way.

So now it's getting reposted, in 5 parts. It -looks- much more appealing to read a well formatted story then one in which everything is simply thrown together.

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**Part 2**

Try as I might, I was unable to cease the emotions I felt towards Legolas. During the day, he was as obedient as even Boromir might imagine, never speaking and doing as he was commanded, but at night he was more then eager to express that the feelings between us were completely mutual. Whenever we were out of eyesight of the company, I would release him from whatever bonds he'd had to endure during the day, and we would often sit and converse of things that brought back fond memories from my childhood, be they an elf's adoration for nature of the recollection of my first archery lesson.

'I am a gifted archer,' Legolas told me, smiling and settling himself at my side. 'In Mirkwood, I was one of Thranduill's most skilled archers.'

'My aim is satisfactory,' I admitted. 'My greatest talent lies in sword fighting. I have always loved the feeling of a blade in my hand.'

'And your King? Where does his interest lie?' I turned my head, surprised for it was the first time Legolas had ever mentioned Boromir.

'Boromir is a man of war, he is not known for his kindness. His interest lies where ever there is bloodshed and victory.'

Our journey progressed without delay, and each day I fought emotions I could not explain as we drew nearer and nearer to Minas Tirith. Often I caught Boromir watching his slave with open desire, his eyes darkening as they perceived for the first time the extend of elven agility, no doubt imagining how easy it would be to bend the elf to suit his will. Legolas, however, remained oblivious to any attention directed at him except my own.

One night we arrived in a small settlement inside the borders of Gondor, and Boromir declared that he simply could not survive another night in the wild, so we travelled to the inn and the remainder of the vacant rooms were soon occupied by our company. As was normal, Legolas came with me, following submissively until we were behind closed doors. I unbound his wrists and he thanked me, then did not retreat when I stepped closer to him. Fully aware of what I was doing, I gathered the elf into my arms and pressed our lips together in a gentle kiss.

Legolas gave a small gasp of surprise, but I did not take advantage and deepen the kiss when his lips parted and he inhaled, his body stiffening as I continued to move my lips against his own for a few frightening minutes when I feared he would push me away, until I felt him react and his lips open wider, his tongue darting out momentarily to make brief contact with my own in acknowledgement.

My heart sang with joy and I slowly deepened the kiss, savoring the taste as I pushed my tongue into the sweet cavern of his mouth and closed my eyes, lost in bliss. Legolas excepted my invitation to play, his tongue darting at my own as I pursued it around his mouth, trying desperately to memorize every inch.

I dared to believe Legolas had never taken a lover before, for he was shy in his attempts to encourage me, allowing me to take complete control of the situation without a moment's protest. His body was warm in my arms, and when I raised one hand to place at the back of his neck he gave a small moan, gathering my tunic in his hands and pulling me closer. My free arm wrapped around his waist, securing our positions.

There are no words to explain the joy I felt as Legolas returned my affection, kissing me back as thoroughly as I did to him. I retracted my tongue and his followed me shyly back into my mouth, carefully running his tongue along the roof of my mouth. At last I could no go longer and broke our lip lock, breathing heavily as I continued to hold his small body against mine. His lithe frame was dwarfed by my traveling cloak and he rested his head against my shoulder, his moist breath warming my neck as I savored the feel of his weight resting in my arms and against my body.

'Thank you,' he whispered, making no move to withdraw from the sanction of my arms. I sighed in content and closed my eyes.

After the luxury of that night, King Boromir was not eager to return to our previous mannerisms the next day. Therefore, we halted at once when we were fortunate to find yet another inn with enough room to host our large company.

The room to which I had been assigned had only one bed, and as soon as we entered I removed my shoes and stretched out on the mattress, sighing in fatigue. We had pressed hard that day, and I was wearied from the constant travelling. I closed my eyes and placed one hand over them, shielding my gaze from the light.

The mattress dipped as Legolas joined me. I shifted towards the wall, allowing him more room, and he reclined beside me, one hand resting on my chest.

I awoke before my companion the next morning and lay still, watching the rising and falling of his back with each gentle breath he took. I felt a twinge of pity, for Legolas was becoming painfully thin and without his tunic to conceal his ribs I was shocked by how malnourished he appeared. Boromir still would not allow his slave the luxury of food although he was bestowing the elf a small amount of water, and naught I said nor did would change his mind.

I rested my hand upon Legolas' fair head, running my fingers through his silky hair in admiration as I thought.

I knew now that I was falling in love with the elf. Desperately, I tried to convince myself that the emotions stirring within me were simple lust, but had I any doubts I needed only to look back to the night prior where I had done naught more then hold him close to me. The realization cause me stomach to curl, for Legolas would never be mine to hold and to cherish. He was King Boromir's possession, a trophy to be displayed and no more then one of his many conquests.

Legolas stirred under my hand and I returned my thoughts to the present. He raised his head and blinked heavy eyes, smiling instantly as his silver orbs focused upon my face. For his sake, I tried to keep my face blank of any emotions I was experiencing.

Legolas sighed and returned his head to it's spot upon my chest, waiting patiently for his drowsiness to subside. I knew, however, that without nourishment he was unable to regain the energy that had been sapped from him the previous day. I saw his decrease in energy daily and it pained my heart to witness him in such a condition.

Each day we grew closer and closer to Minas Tirith. The remainder of our nights were spend outdoors with only a simple tent to shelter us from the weather, be it violent winds or onslaughts of rain. It would not have bothered me had I had Legolas to hold and comfort, but to my despair his care was appointed to another's care. When I questioned Boromir as to why, he simply replied that he wanted his elf used to being handled by different people.

The days were long and exhausting. Legolas was bound in a fashion similar to that in which he had been placed the first night of his capture. At first, I wondered if the rope containing his wrists had been attached to the noose that he wore during the day but closer inspection revealed that he simply chose to keep his fingers curled around the rope, saving the sensitive skin on his neck. He stumbled often and soon he did not have the energy to raise his head. Travel was slow, for as much as Boromir wished to press the speed Legolas became physically unable to keep the quicker pace. His fingers and palms were dark from dried blood and more then once I had had to divert my gaze when he had fallen and the guards had not waited for him to regain his footing. On such occasions, he was dragged until Boromir halted. At last, I could bear it no more and approached the King.

'My lord,' I greeted him as I moved my colt beside his mount. He inclined his head in acknowledgement.

'Perhaps it would be wise to cease the day's travel. You slave is a burden and if he is fed tomorrow he might have enough energy to make up on the travel will we miss today.'

Boromir raised his eyebrows, surprised that I had courage enough to confront him. However, he did not appear to be angry. Sparing a moment to watch the stumbling elf in his procession, he returned his gaze to me and shook his head.

'As much as I agree with you, we cannot spare the supplies. We are already behind schedule and our food is dwindling rapidly.'

'If there is any chance of increasing the pace I would gladly give him half of my ration.'

The King considered my request and I tried not to appear as uncomfortable as I felt. At last he nodded and I waited until I had dropped behind him before sighing in relief.

That night, as I had requested, I was only given a portion of my regular rations. I ate it quickly, ignoring my body's protest at the sudden decrease in food, then rose to my feet and left the sanction of my tent.

Night had fallen and a small fire was alight in the center of the camp. Those who had not yet retired for the night were seated in it's warmth. Instead of joining my companions I left the ring of light, wandering outside of the camp in search of fresh air to clear my head. The moon was bright and I could see the horses tethered to the trees to my left. My own colt threw his head and nickered in greeting.

I watched him, about to approach him until movement in the corner of my eye. Startled, my heart quickened when I recognized the figure to be Legolas. He was bound behind his guards' tent, his hands shackled around the trunk of a small tree. He was watching me and I quickly went to his side, murmuring reassurance and brushing his hair away from his face. I could see the naked fear in his eyes, concealing the shard of trust I knew to exist. I wrapped my arms around his trembling body, holding him close.

Legolas' body was cold and I cursed the men who had put him in such a position. He leaned into my embrace, his eyes shut tightly. I twisted my head to watch a single tear slide down the side of his face.

No words were spoken as I held him, soothing him until his trembles had subsided. At last he broke the silence between us. His voice was quiet and I had to strain to hear it.

'Please Aragorn, do not touch me.'

'Why not?' I asked him, shocked by his request.

'I am filthy. I do not want someone as pure and noble as yourself to come in contact with me.'

In response, I simply held him tighter, bowing my head to press my lips against the top of his head and silently cursing the Valar for allowing such a thing to be said.

'What happened?'

A small shudder racked Legolas' body. 'They touched me and forced my completion by their hands.' I was thankful for the darkness that hid his face from my own, for had he been able to see my reaction he would not have told me such a thing. Legolas gave a small sob and buried his face in my neck.

Legolas was silent for long minutes, understandably humiliated at his lose of composure. I waited in silence until his tears had halted and his breathing had returned to it's usual rhythm.

'I know what your King will ask of me.' His voice was quiet, even though his head was beside my own, and it shook from either fear or fatigue. 'I have never been loved by another.'

'What you shall experience at Boromir's hands shall not be love,' I replied automatically.

Legolas hung his head in defeat and I felt my heart break at the hopeless expression he bore.

'Aragorn!'

My name was called by one of my companions and I turned my head, wanting nothing more then to ignore him and remain with Legolas. I knew, however, that if I did so he would come searching for me and the consequences would be dire indeed if Boromir ever found out my companionship with his new slave. Pressing a parting kiss of Legolas' brow I rose to my feet.

'Thank you,' Legolas said, recapturing my attention as I began to depart. I turned my head in surprise and found his eyes upon me.

'Thank you,' he repeated. 'For I know it was you I must thank for the food I received tonight.'

'I could not simply stand by and watch you suffer,' I replied, smiling sadly. 'Rest well.'

'Likewise, mellon nin.'

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_

Please review! I like to know that my work is appreciated!

_


	3. Part 3

**Title**: Bound by Desire

**Part** : 3/5

**Author** : Swilite

**Rating**: R

**Pairings** : Aragorn/Legolas, Boromir/Legolas, Implied Boromir/Aragorn

**Warnings** : Slash, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything, it's just a fantasy we all share. Don't sue. All characters are wonderful figments of Tolkien's imagination.

_**PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If ANY of these themes bother you, do not read this story. I cannot emphasize it enough.**_

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_This chapter contains extreme slashyness, and rape. This is the chapter most of these warnings are for. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If you hate me by the end of this chapter, it's your own fault. I warned you. Frequently._

_If you intend to proceed, please take this moment to gather tissues, chainsaws, and any other essential items you may need in order to cope._

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The next day we began our travel early. The sun had hardly rose above the horizon before Boromir signaled that we move out.

Legolas, for his part, looked none the worse for the wear. To any who did not know what had taken place the night prior he would have seemed only slightly hesitant, and it seemed as if I was the only one who saw how tense he became when one of the guards approached him or how he flinched when they touched him. It was easy to single out those who had participated in Legolas' degradation the night prior, they spoke to each other in hushed voices and watch the elf out of the corner of they're eyes, smirking in satisfaction. For my part, I was surprised at how capable I was of controlling my rage.

We rested once around noon, allowing the horses a small chance to rest as we ate. As I had promised, I gave Legolas a portion of my food.

'Thank you,' he whispered quietly, the gratitude in his voice magnified tenfold in his eyes. I allowed a small smile to lift the corners of my lips before retreating, leaving Legolas to eat in solitude.

Our journey continued long past nightfall. Boromir, thrilled by the speed, ordered us to continue and shortly before dawn we reached Minas Tirith. The King pulled me aside as we dismounted, handing our horse's reins to holsters who had been notified of our arrival.

'Aragorn, I am assigning you the permanent task of caring for my new slave. Tonight he shall remain with you and tomorrow you shall array him properly and teach him proper etiquette. I shall then confront you with further instructions.' The King hid a yawn behind his hand and sighed in fatigue. I listened attentively and then nodded to show my comprehension.

The noose containing Legolas was given to me and I removed in instantly, quickly surveying his neck and marking the damage that had been done to the tender flesh. Much to my relief it appeared that the majority of the damage was superficial, but I did not waste time to examine it further.

Legolas followed me like a small shadow until we reached my quarters. I opened the door and waited for him to enter before following, closing the door behind us and listening to the sound echo in my silent chambers. The first room was my sleeping quarter. Legolas stood in it's center, illuminated by the glow of the moon streaming through one of the windows above the head of my bed. His hair fell across his face and I was unable to discern the emotions written there, but he did not stiffen when I stepped closer and raised a hand, laying it upon his shoulder and silently coaxing him to face me.

Legolas did as I bid, but did not raise his eyes to meet my gaze. I surveyed his body, noting the evident hunch in his shoulders before realizing that his hands were still bound. I pulled a dagger from it's sheath at my waist and cut the cord, allowing it to fall forgotten at our feet.

'Shall I set up a separate cot for you to sleep upon?' I questioned, my voice surprisingly quiet and gentle.

'Nay,' he replied, raising his gaze at last. 'I would feel much more comfortable if I were to bed with you tonight. If that is alright,' he added hurriedly. I smiled.

'Of course. You have no reason to be afraid, Legolas.' I kissed him gently and gathered his small body in my arms, depositing him on the edge of my bed. Legolas blushed at the treatment, but I could tell he enjoyed being coddled for he did not withdraw.

I shed my tunic and joined Legolas under the covers, pausing for a moment to admire his ethereal beauty. Legolas smiled as I wrapped an arm around his waist, willing pressing himself closer to me.

I closed my eyes and was on the verge of dreams when Legolas stirred, moving closer to me and pressing a gentle kiss on my parted him. His tongue flicked at the inside of my mouth and I opened my eyes.

'I know you are not asleep,' he whispered. 'Not when there are pressing matters to be dealt with.'

'What might those be?'

'Mainly my virginity. I do not wish for Boromir to be the first man to love me.'

If I felt any shard of fatigue, it vanished at those words. I watched Legolas, startled that he had made such a request. He blushed but did not divert his eyes. Instead, I was shocked to see a hint of pleading in their depth.

'Please, Aragorn,' he whispered. I could tell his request had not been made in jest, the truth in his face clarified any misgivings I might have felt. Desperation was clear on his visage and I could tell this was his final attempt for the emotions within him were I to say no would consume him.

I was no stranger to sexual gratification of any sort. A combination of my successful position at court and my nobility had left me feeling content and relived on more then one occasion, yet for some reason I balked at the thought of doing to Legolas what I had to many before. However, these emotions were of no surprise. I had been experiencing them since my discovery a few days prior that I loved the elf.

'Legolas-' I whispered, shaking my head in regret, but before I could continue he covered my mouth with his hand in surprising speed, halting the string of words he feared would come.

'Please Aragorn, do not deny me.' His eyes locked with mine and I was unable to refuse. For one fleeting moment, I saw him as few before ever had, his very soul barred. A turmoil of fear and desperation mixed within him, and he quickly turned his head away, leaving me to believe that he had not purposefully allowed such a slip in his defenses.

I kiss the palm of his hand that continued to cover my mouth, licking away the sweat and tasting it for the first time. I reached upwards and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, persistently pushing it away as I leaned forwards to cover the elf's mouth with my own. Legolas could tell he had won the battle, and now that he was assured that he would receive his desires he was eager to submit, leaving no question in either of our minds who would dominate that night.

Using my hands as well as my mouth I pushed him backwards until he lay reclined upon the bed, his head lifted as his neck arched as he fought to keep contact with my lips. I rested above him, propped by my elbows on either side of his head as I continued to kiss him passionately.

I broke our lip lock and moved my head downwards, trailing my tongue over his neck and reveling in the soft moans this produced. My hands quickly knocked the bedsheets towards our feet where they lay forgotten for the time being.

Although I was not overly eager to be gentle with my teeth, I left no marks Boromir would notice in the daylight. Legolas' hand came to rest at the back of my head, silently attempting to keep me from straying any farther, and I smiled kindly.

My fingers made quick work of the ties on Legolas' tunic, eagerly working to discard of the raiment that hid his glorious body from my eyes. Ignoring Legolas' hand, I dropped farther downwards, raising one hand and running my fingers through the evident dip beside his collar bone that appeared with each gasping breath he took. I caressed the skin, entranced by the sight of such perfection. No blemishes marred his beauty and desire rose within me.

Pressing chaste kisses along his chest I made my way to his nipples. They pebbled instantly as my mouth descended upon one and my fingers found the other. I took my time, sucking it into my mouth and nipping at it with my teeth, pulling more moans from his beautiful mouth. I then switched to the other side of his chest and took my time playing with that one until all I needed to do was blow gently and Legolas would arch up, gasping quietly.

Content with the manner the night was progressing, I travelled only as far as his navel before halting my downwards descent. I pushed my tongue into the small crevice and Legolas' body wreathed under my hands. No doubt, he had been unaware that that portion of his body could be the cause of such pleasure.

When I raised my head and straightened, rocking back onto my heels so I could have a perfect view of the beauty stretched before me, Legolas raised his head, making eye contact with me in question. I curled my fingers around his waistband and Legolas nodded, agreeing to my silent question. I peeled the final garment away inch by inch, my eyes widening in lust as his perfect body was displayed before me. A single moan passed through my constricted throat and by the time I was at his ankles my own breeches were feeling extremely confining.

As I worked, Legolas had quickly twisted out of what remained of his tunic, the garment lay in disorder upon the floor. He blushed slightly but in my current mood I did not take notice of his virgin shyness.

I began at his ankles, kissing the sensitive skin as I journeyed upwards to the insides of his knees. A small shudder passed through Legolas' lithe body, the muscles tensing under my fingers at the unfamiliar sensation of my stubble scrapping across bare skin. I reached the inside of his knee and pushed it upwards, hooking his leg around my shoulder. Without being asked, Legolas quickly did the same to the other leg.

I could feel his silver eyes watching me and raised my gaze, locking eyes with the youth. Legolas' gave me a small smile, his nervousness evident in the tremble of his body. I bowed my head, knowing that in few minutes such uncertainty could easily be replaced by lust.

What took place then was merely a prelude to the sin I would commit that night, and even I was shocked by how quickly Legolas' nervousness switched to unmistakable pleasure. His thighs tensed and his heels dug into my back while I pulled small moans from his mouth. I did not, however, bring him to completion yet, for only now did I have him in the state that I wanted him.

When I left the bed, his silver eyes followed me, watching me in silent question until I returned, a vile of oil in hand.

'What is that for?' Legolas asked quietly, but there was no fear in his voice.

'To prepare you. I do not want to hurt you.'

For the next while, I proceeded to show the elf exactly what I meant, loving him slowly and passionately. He watched me with wide eyes and through the entire experience I had no doubts that I had fully accomplished my promise of allowing no hurt to come to him. The love and compassion I felt at that moment were mirrored in his eyes, and I held him close as he gasped and writhed in my embrace, his face a display of ecstasy .

I could feel orgasm building within me and closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of Legolas' beautiful body moving under mine. I could hear his ragged breathing and feel the rapid rising and falling of his naked chest. I took one last thrust, pushing myself as far as physically possible into him, and stilled as my seed filled his insides. I moaned loudly, hanging my head.

Legolas came moments later, shouting my name to the heavens as liquid washed over my hand, covering his belly and staining my sheets. I collapsed beside him and he turned to face me, his breath warming my neck as I waited for the post-orgasmic thrill to subside.

'Aragorn,' he whispered, his voice rough. 'I love you.'

I smiled and turned my head so I was facing him, looking into those emotional silver eyes. Disengaging my arm from it's post around his body, I gently brushed his hair away from his face. 'I love you too, Legolas.'

I pressed a gentle kiss to his swollen lips but did not deepen it even when his lips parted and his tongue pressed against my own, seeking entrance. I gathered Legolas into my arms and sighed, feeling tired. Legolas nuzzled his head beneath my chin, relaxing in my embrace. By the time we were on the verge of dreams, the sun had already begun it's journey across the sky, signaling the arrival of a new day.

I awoke late in the afternoon, surprised by how fatigued I had been to sleep to such an hour. Legolas was still dreaming, his half-lidded eyes unfocused. I lay still for a few minutes, simply watching him, until my stomach began to protest the lack of food.

With a sigh of regret I left the bed, grabbing a pair of breeches and a simple tunic from my dresser. When I left, I was certain to lock the door behind me, for it would not do for a maid to enter my room to tidy it and find the King's conquest asleep nude in my bed.

I quickly sought out the kitchen, flirting with one of the cooks until she agreed to make a platter for me and my companion. With a wide smile and a small wink, I took the offered food.

My journey back to my quarters was interrupted by none other then the King. Boromir arrived, looking splendid in hues of deep red and silver. He looked orderly and immaculate, a complete comparison to my quick outfit. He smiled upon seeing my state.

'Did you oversleep again, Aragorn?' he teased, falling in step beside me and picking a sandwich from my arms.

'Of course,' I smiled.

He shook his head mockingly. 'Alas, Aragorn, what would my advisors say if they knew how little work you actually accomplished?'

'I accomplish plenty,' I replied, aware that I was being taunted. Boromir laughed at my response and draped his arm around my shoulders.

'Any my elf? How is he?'

'Recovering from the journey, my liege. He was still asleep when I left.'

The King sighed thoughtfully. 'He shall be present at the feast tonight.'

'A feast?' I blinked in surprise.

'Yes, a feast. To celebrate our return. If you did not sleep so perhaps you would be aware of the preparations.' Boromir chuckled. I shook my head, refusing the offered bait. 'Tell me about elves Aragorn,' he said thoughtfully.

I shrugged. 'I have not been in their company for many decades.'

'You have lived among them and spoke their language, did you not?'

I relented. 'They are a merry folk. They are gifted in combat, extremely agile, and immortal. They can die only in battle or from a broken heart.'

Boromir looked mildly surprised. 'An immortal heirloom? My brother is not worthy of my new conquest.'

'Surely you knew elves were immortal?' I asked, surprised by his statement.

Boromir shrugged. 'I have never met an elf, I did not know if the stories were true.' Boromir sighed, then continued as though I had not interrupted him. 'My brother does not see the beauty in a personal slave.'

'His values are different then your own, that does not mean that they are wrong.'

Boromir laughed. 'Noble Aragorn, you keep me entertained.'

By this point, we had reached the door to my chambers. Thankfully, Boromir bid me farewell and departed, leaving me in solitude when I opened the door and saw Legolas perched on the window sill, one leg drawn up to his chest and the other hanging loosely along the wall. At my arrival, he turned and smiled.

'I hoped you would return soon,' he said, pulling the bedsheet he bore tighter around his waist and leaving his post on the window. He approached me shyly and I wondered briefly if he had any misgivings about the night prior until he took the platter from my arms and set in on the ground, then wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me gently.

I returned his affection in delight until he pulled away, panting slightly. Twin spots of color decorated his cheeks and brushed the back of my fingers over them, watching the hue darken at my response.

Legolas sat on the edge of the bed as I retrieved the platter, pushing it insistently into his hands.

'Eat,' I told him, 'you must be famished.'

The next few hours were spent preparing for that night. Legolas was taken to the fitters and measured, then given appropriate clothing. As the King's personal slave, he was required to dress to please his master, but not to offend any who's rank was above his. After staring at the elf for an unnecessarily long time, the fitter decided upon a sage tunic hemmed with silver and tan leggings.

Hours later we made our way towards the great hall, or towards impending doom as Legolas believed. He was pale and clammy, visibly frightened, and my soft words did naught to calm him. He looked splendid in the chosen ensemble and at first I had wondered if perhaps he was dressed to richly for his rank, then decided it was not the clothes that made him look kingly, 'twas he that accented the clothes.

A long table was set up at the head of the hall. The king's tall backed chair noticeable from every seat. Beside him was a lower chair that I knew to be for Legolas, and aside that was my own. I brushed my hand against his in encouragement and he gave me a shaky smile.

We reached our seats and though I sat, I told Legolas to stand until his master bid him do otherwise. He did so, his hands resting on the back of the seat and his eyes downcast. At last Boromir entered and everyone fell silent as the King crossed the hall, his eyes fixed on the immortal. His gaze flickered to me momentarily and he gave me an approving smile, then took his seat and talk was resumed.

Legolas sat after Boromir. I cast a curious glance in his direction, but his time in silence had not been wasted and he had composed himself amazingly. When he felt the King's eyes upon him, he even had the courage to meet Boromir's gaze.

I placed my hand on Legolas' thigh and he gave a small sigh of thanks, then rested his hand upon my own. Perhaps the only indication of his nervousness was his clammy palm, clamped tightly around my own fingers.

When servers brought the food, the meal began. I took what I pleased, filling my plate until I was content, but Legolas was unable to have that luxury. He was served a portion of whatever his master took, eating in silence without letting go of my hand.

As the meal progressed, chatter was renewed but I preferred to listen rather then speak. Tonight, I only listened with half an ear as Boromir spoke of the affairs we had missed, for the remainder of my attention was on Legolas. He had not spoken since entering the hall, but I could hardly fault him for it was as Boromir had wanted him trained. He could not speak unless spoken to, and nobody had yet questioned him.

Callused knuckles brushed my fingers and I jumped in shock, for Legolas' free hand was resting on my own. I looked up, knowing who's hand it had been. As predicted, Boromir was rested his chin in one hand, his elbow propped on the table, and the other was beneath the folds of the table cloth, as though resting in his lap. I pulled my hand away quickly and Legolas' followed, halting my withdraw at his side and twining our fingers. He cast a disbelieving look at Boromir, but the King pretended to be attentive in listening to his advisors.

Legolas swallowed nervously and shifted in his seat, gripping my hand tighter. I gave his hand a small squeeze and looked away, unable to watch the reddening of his cheeks or the manner his chest moved when his breathing quickened. I heard a small sound escape the confines of his throat and looked over at Boromir, who was now watching Legolas with a confident smile. His arm moved and Legolas' eyes fluttered ever so slightly, but Boromir did not miss the reaction. His smile widened and Legolas gripped my hand until I had no feeling left in my fingers.

With his free hand, Boromir reached over, cupping Legolas' chin and turning his head until they were face to face, then moved his head closer and pressed his lips to Legolas'.

I am certain that Legolas stopped breathing entirely when Boromir claimed his mouth, I know for a fact that I did. When the King withdrew he pulled in a shaky gasp, but could not divert his gaze for Boromir's hand still held his chin. The King gave him a smile and a quick wink, then withdrew completely and returned to his discussion with his advisors who were watching his interaction with his slave in mild surprise.

Legolas gave a small sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair, leaving the remainder of his food untouched.

After the feast, the tables were pushed aside and room cleared so we could socialize. Boromir took a seat on one of the couches lining the walls and pulled Legolas down beside him, wrapping his arm around Legolas' waist and running his hands along the elf's slim sides. Fortunately, that was as far as his advances went.

At this point, Prince Faramir approached me, looking sullen.

'What ails you, my friend?' I asked him, watching him in concern.

Faramir shook his head. ' 'Tis Boromir's slave. I do not agree with the elf's captivity, he does not deserve what Boromir has planned for him. Is it not true that elves vanish if they are taken against their will?'

I looked at the Prince in surprise. I was not aware of his study of elves. At last, I nodded slowly. 'Yes. You have heard correctly.'

Faramir sighed. 'It is a fate that the elf does not deserve. He has done naught wrong.'

We stood in silence for a long moment, watching Boromir's advances on his new consort.

At last, I gave a deep sigh. 'Come, let us speak of lighter topics. How did Gondor fare in my absence?'

As the evening was drawing to a close and Boromir stood, signaling for me to approach. I did so, raising an eyebrow in question.

'Take my elf to my chambers and remain with him until I arrive, I will try not to be delayed.'

I nodded and Legolas stepped beside me, his eyes downcast. I placed a hand on his arm and urged him to move, leading him outside the hall. We traveled the stone corridors until I halted and pulled him into the shadows.

Legolas looked up at me in surprise when I pushed him back against the wall, brushing his hair out of his face and looking into his eyes in concern.

'Are you alright?' I asked him.

Legolas nodded slightly.

I brushed my hand against his cheek, watching him through sorrow filled eyes. I knew what Boromir had planned, and felt my heart shatter at the knowledge.

Legolas took my hand in his own and raised it to his lips, kissing my knuckles in reassurance.

'I hold no grudge against him, for had he not enslaved me I would never have met you, a scenario much more grievous to that which now presents itself to me.' He gave me a small smile and pulled me back into the lighted corridor.

'Do not risk exposing our relationship when there may be prying eyes,' he scolded teasingly.

We arrived at Boromir's quarters and I opened the door, allowing Legolas entrance. He sat on the edge of the King's bed, his feet crossed at the ankles and his hands clasped in his lap.

Our entrance was not a moment to soon, for as soon as the door was closed behind us we heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Boromir entered, his eyes landing momentarily on me before darting to Legolas. The elf raised his eyes, watching Boromir as he approached.

'Thank you Aragorn,' he said, 'my elf looks splendid.'

Legolas tensed and I could tell he was insulted by the manner in which Boromir spoke of him, but I cast a quick warning glance in his direction and his stance softened. I did not reply, for even if I had it would have gone unheard as Boromir pulled Legolas to his feet. Legolas gasped, surprised by the sudden movement, and the King claimed his mouth possessively, sampling what was his to taste and enjoy.

After a few antagonizing minutes, he pulled away, ordering Legolas to undress. Legolas' face paled as his fingers fumbled with the ties to his tunic, his hands shaking so badly he could hardly get his fingers to respond.

I turned away, trying to ignore the wave of sickness that I felt. After taking a moment to compose myself, I walked towards the door.

'Aragorn,' the King's voice halted me in mid step and I turned my head, wondering for what purpose he had called me. 'You need not depart.'

'Excuse me?' I asked, certain that I had misunderstood.

'I want you to remain. Perhaps you may even take initiative to join us.'

'I have no desire to see you nude, my liege,' I half teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

Boromir smirked and stepped closer to me. 'You already have.'

I blanched, surprised by his new angle of attack. My surprise, however, quickly morphed into anger when I caught the hurt expression on Legolas' face. 'What happened between us was an object of lust, and no more. Do not try to rekindle feelings that never existed.' I used my superior height to intimidate him, and he stepped backwards in surprise when I advanced.

I should have known better then to intimidate him, however. Boromir's eyes narrowed as the color rose in his face.

'You are not permitted to leave,' he commanded. I considered refusing, but even I would not deny a royal command. I hooked the leg of a chair situated close to me with my foot and pulled it forwards, crossing my arms before my chest and leaning back in the seat.

Instead of seeking retribution on me, the King directed his anger at an easier source. Legolas was caught unaware when Boromir spun to face him, then raised on hand and slapped him forcefully. The momentum of the blow caused Legolas to topple backwards onto the bed and he raised one hand, placing his palm against his cheek while he regarded Boromir with wide eyes.

Boromir undressed quickly, and I turned my head, fighting the bile that rose in my throat. Boromir's clothes joined Legolas' in a pile on the floor and he crawled onto the bed. Legolas shivered and backed away, trying to retreat from his inevitable fate. I breathed deeply, clenching my shaking fists as Legolas' back hit the cold surface of the headboard, ending his withdrawal. Boromir took one of the elf's wrists and held it up to the headboard, securing it in place with a leather sash that rested on the bedside table. Legolas twisted his wrist, his eyes fearful as the King repeated the action on his other hand.

Boromir smiled and Legolas paled. The King grabbed his waist in both hands and pulled him downwards, successfully pulling him onto the Boromir's lap, one graceful leg bent on either side on Boromir's body. The King paused for a moment, his eyes taking in the view of the elf completely at his mercy before his hand found Legolas' hips and rotated them, allowing him to enter the elf without preparation or warning in one smooth thrust.

The cry that tore from Legolas' throat was a sound I would never forget. His back arched completely off the bed and his hand strained at his bonds, his head barely touching the pillow below it. Boromir gave a low moan and paused for the merest breath, then used both hands to push Legolas back down and withdrew, only to thrust back in with as much ruthlessness as before. The first hint of tears appeared on the elf's dark lashes and I blinked rapidly to clear my own vision.

Boromir closed his eyes, unwilling to look upon the pain he was causing. His sole intention the pleasure he was receiving. His hands gripped Legolas' hips, nails digging into the soft skin, and pulled Legolas to meet him.

The rape, for no such coupling can be called sex, continued long past the point of bearable for both Legolas and myself. The elf's body trembled violently and he had stopped struggling, his energy long past spent. Hate is a dangerous emotion, and there are no words to explain how it feels to watch one you love suffering such treatment. I believe that the only reason I did nothing to halt Boromir's onslaught was because I was physically unable, shock and desperation consumed me and my body would not listen to my mind, no matter how loudly it screamed that what I was watching was wrong.

The King paused and bowed his head. Sweaty locks obscured his face from my vision and his back rose and fell with each panting breath he took. One hand reached between his body and that of the elf's to grasp Legolas in his callused palm, causing the elf to flinch away from the unwanted touch.

Eventually, Boromir's ministrations had the effect the King desired. Legolas whimpered and shook his head to clear it from the unwanted pleasure that coursed through his body, and Boromir chuckled at the elf's response. A small moan passed Legolas' lips and the pain in my heart nearly caused it to stop. To hear Boromir forcing the sounds from the elf that Legolas gave to me so eagerly the night prior was more then I could bear.

The King resumed his movement and I closed my eyes. The final image I saw was Legolas, his head reclined against the pillow and his body molded to accommodate Boromir's length. His golden hair lay in disarray, and above his head his wrists were chaffed and bleeding from the tight sash, his fingers turning purple at the lack of blood. Before long, Legolas gave a cry of despair that signalled his release and Boromir followed shortly afterwards with a deep moan. The room smelt of sex, and my stomach churned, threatening to empty it's contents.

I pried my eyes open, turning to face the image of the spent pair. Legolas was crying freely, his body shaking with silent sobs while his master rested on his prone form, uncaring of how difficult it must be for Legolas to breath while supporting such a heavy weight. After a moment, without relieving the elf of his burden, Boromir turned his head to face me.

'Aragorn,' he said in a husky voice, 'you are dismissed.'

I jumped to my feet and nearly fell to the ground when my shaky legs refused to support my weight. Quickly, I grasped the chair I had been sitting upon until I could stand by myself, then left out of the room without so much as a backwards glance. I hurried to my own quarters where I shed tears for the first time in well over a decade.

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Please review! Flamers will be fed to Sage! -rawr- 

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	4. Part 4

**Title**: Bound by Desire

**Part** : 4/5

**Author** : Swilite

**Rating**: R

**Pairings** : Aragorn/Legolas, Boromir/Legolas, Implied Boromir/Aragorn

**Warnings** : Slash, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything, it's just a fantasy we all share. Don't sue. All characters are wonderful figments of Tolkien's imagination.

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PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If ANY of these themes bother you, do not read this story. I cannot emphasize it enough.

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_The length of this chapter should more then make up for the length of some of the ones prior to it (I'm sorry!) I'm not even going to bother telling people to go away, because if you're still here at this point, I guess your as hopeless as I._

_-toast to insanity-_

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Boromir's anger towards me lasted the better part of a week. During that time, he held daily conferences to which I was purposefully uninvited. That in itself was a benefit, the last thing I felt like doing was pretending to be companions with Legolas' tormentor. However, the King insisted on keeping the elf at his side during the day and by limiting my time in Boromir's company, I was also limiting my time in Legolas'.

The only times I saw the elf were at dinner. Boromir, eager to show off his new consort, had Legolas dressed to match his attire, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind to whom he belonged. Although even I would admit to how regal he appeared, I did not approve, for one had only to look past his outward appearance to see how deeply he was wounded. His stance was hunched, as though he had not the strength to straighten his pose. Only once did I catch his eye, and when I did so I could see that the damage that had been done to him was not only emotional, but mental and physical as well.

At last I could bear my solitude no longer and approached Boromir's study one time when I was positive he would be there. I knocked lightly on the door then pushed it open, proving my intuition to be correct.

The King was bent over a stack of papers, his hair pushed behind his ears to keep his vision clear, and his brow furrowed in concentration. The moment I entered he looked up, watching me through emotionless eyes.

I had long since learned that Boromir did not allow his elf to stray far, and so I cast my eyes around his study until I found his small figure. He sat with his back against the wall and his legs drawn up to his chest. He was curled around his ribs, one arm cradled protectively against his chest, and when he looked up to see who had entered I caught sight of a dark bruise spotting his left cheek. Blood was beginning to stain the shoulder of his tunic, and I wondered what he had done to anger his master. Our eye locked briefly before he bowed his head, obviously ashamed of his condition. My stomach clenched, and I forced myself look at the man who had done this to him.

'I want to apologize, my liege,' I said, fighting to keep my face impassive. 'My behavior last weekend was uncalled for.'

Boromir raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

'Your stubborn pride is actually allowing you to admit that you were wrong?' he said, his voice just as emotionless as his face.

I nodded, ignoring the barb.

'I acted out of place,' I told him, keeping my eyes fixed on his face.

Boromir seemed to consider the apology, and at last he nodded. 'Alright. You are forgiven.'

he door, asking for entry. Boromir motioned for me to open it and I did so, stepping out of the way to allow the King to see his visitor.

'My King, your presence is required in the throne room,' the herald informed him. Boromir sighed and got to his feet.

'Shall you join us?' he asked, watching me.

'Of course.'

Boromir gave a small smile and then turned to his elf. His expression faded from amusement to anger, and he jerked his head. At once, Legolas hurried to right himself and jump to his feet, but the wounds he had sustained did not agree with the action and the elf stumbled, clutching the bookcase beside him to remain standing.

A look of utmost disgust appeared on Boromir's features and he quickly turned on his heel, exiting and expecting Legolas and myself to follow.

I caught the elf's eye and it took every ounce of my willpower not to go to him. His face reddened in humiliation and he hurried after his master, eager to avoid another beating for his disobedience. I gave a small sigh and followed the pair, trying to lighten my mood.

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'Boromir,' an advisor I knew by the name of Trevon addressed the King. 'It is necessary for your whore to attend all of our conferences?' He looked at Legolas and the elf trembled.

For many days now I had been present and such meetings, and had come to see what provoked Trevon from speaking out of line. On Boromir's good days, he would spend hours running his hands through Legolas' hair, shifting impatiently for a break to be called. Often, if we ignored him, he would call it himself, and the usher us out of the room so he could do as he had been wanting all day, only to resume the meeting once he was complete.

On his bad days, we sat well away from him, and felt pity for Legolas, who was forced to remain kneeling at his side. When he became upset, he would often accentuate his words with gestures, and Legolas would cringe to avoid being hit. When a break was called on these days, we would return to find tears on the elf's face and blood on his tunic.

Boromir looked at Trevon, shocked that he had made such a request. His shock, however, quickly faded to rage and his face reddened as he prepared for a reply.

Had I not been trying to avoid confrontation with the King, especially because I had already been involved in a spat that lasted many days, I would have sided with the advisor. Fortunately, my silence was not noted, for one of our many guards had bore enough witness to what passed between the King and his slave, and spoke in agreement.

'He is a distraction, my King. I see no reason for him to be present.'

At last Boromir relented, saying that he would find an alternative way for his elf to spend his days.

That night I returned to his study, and upon reaching it I knocked to show my presence, then pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.

Boromir was seated at his desk, but he was not working. He was reclined in the chair, his head tipped backwards, and his hands gripped the edge of the desk with white knuckles. He moved his head to look at me, and his lashed fluttered over cloudy eyes.

My brow furrowed in concern. 'Are you alright, Boromir?'

The King gasped, then nodded. 'Perhaps you could return in a few minutes?'

I narrowed my eyes in bewilderment, silently asking him why he had made such a request. Boromir cast a meaningful glance downwards, directing his gaze under the desk, and I inhaled sharply. I quickly left, closing the door behind me and wandering farther down the hallway so I would not hear the loud moan Boromir would give in a few minute's time.

After I believed I had waited far past a sufficient amount of time I returned, knocking and awaiting an answer before entering.

Boromir gave a small chuckle at my change of mood.

'Thank you,' he said, leaning forwards and placing his head on one hand, his elbow resting on the desk.

'Yes, my lord,' I said, pulling my gaze away from his own, for a wide smile had broken out upon his lips, and he was aware of my discomfort.

Instead of looking at the King, my eyes fell upon Legolas', who no longer remained hidden from my sight. He was resting along the wall, one shoulder pressed into the support. His breath came heavily and one hand rested on his temple. He did not look up to see me, but even from my current angle I could see how swollen his lips were from servicing orally.

The King caught the direction of my glance and laughed, returning my attention to him.

'Actually,' he said, 'I was going to send for you. I have a matter to discuss.'

'What might that be?'

'As you saw, my advisors do not approve of my elf's presence in our conferences. Since you have attended all you needed to, I was hoping perhaps you could take him during the day?'

At this, Legolas looked up. Watching the exchange between the King and myself intently.

'Of course. It will be no hassle for me, I have only paperwork to accomplish for the next while.'

Boromir smiled and sighed in relief. 'My thanks. I was hopping that I would not have to leave him with my guards, you know how bold they may become.'

I laughed in spite of myself, for 'bold' would not cover they're demeanor by half, then sobered slightly.

'I have a few documents on which your signature is required,' I said, recalling my original reason to come here. I handed them to him and leaned over the desk, showing him where to sign.

When we were complete, I straightened, preparing to depart.

'I shall send my elf to your chambers tomorrow,' he said, and I nodded.

The next morning I was awoken by the sound of knocking on my chamber door. Groaning, I rolled out of bed and pulled a bedsheet around my waist, then when to the door. Opening it, I saw that Legolas was accompanied by one of Boromir's advisors.

'Lord Aragorn,' the advisor said in greeting. I grunted in reply, for I did not yet believe that I could formulate a complete sentence.

I opened the door further and motioned for Legolas to enter. He did so quickly, and nearly pulled the door from my hands when he went to close it behind him.

I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and rubbed the back of my hand along my eyes.

'Did I wake you?' Legolas asked, and by the teasing tone of his voice I knew that he was already aware of the answer.

I stumbled back to the bed and fell onto it, pulling one of the pillows over my head to shield my eyes from the sun.

'I think I had far to much wine last night,' I told him, my voice muffled even in my own ears.

Legolas laughed and seated himself at the edge of the bed, rubbing my bare back to sooth me.

'If I knew a sufficient cure for a hangover, I would gladly make it for you.' He said.

'Do not speak so loudly,' I begged.

Legolas laughed quietly and got to his feet, inspecting my room while I gathered the courage to face the day in such a state.

Eventually, I decided that perhaps the day would not be a horrid as my head was attempting to convince me it would. Legolas gave me an encouraging smile and I laughed quietly as I pulled my tunic over my head and finished dressing.

We made our way towards the kitchen for breakfast, and Legolas lounged comfortably along the wall as I persuaded the cook to feed us. At last, she relented and in minutes Legolas and I found ourselves seated alone in the hall with piles of fruit and bread before us.

Legolas ate in silence and I watched him, wondering how long it had been since he had eaten a proper meal, for at dinner he was served only a portion of what his master received, not a full meal. His plate seemed laden with some of everything before us and I wondered vaguely if we had enough food to sustain him. At last, he felt my eyes upon him and met my gaze, one eyebrow cocked in question.

'Why do you watch me?' he asked, but there was no emotion other then mild surprise in his voice.

'Legolas, I adore the sight of you. Nothing that has happened can change that.' I gave him a small smile and watched as his cheeks reddened slightly. He gave a small grunt in reply and continued eating.

Later that day we made our way towards my study, for I could not postpone my duties any longer. I pushed the door open and held it for Legolas, who thanked me quietly.

My work took me much longer then I had anticipated. There were countless treaties and negotiations to be filed, many of which required my signature. An ever growing pile in the corner of my desk were the papers that needed to be translated, and under that were regulations that were midway through being changed.

While I worked, Legolas sat on the window sill, looking past the city at the world that lay beyond. In the distance, the mountains of Mordor loomed, and I wondered what he could see with his elven eyes that I could not.

The day progressed, and I continued to work until the sun was low. Legolas appeared as bored as I, and wandered around my study aimlessly.

'You can help me, if you wish,' I said, an idea coming to mind. The sound of my voice startled the elf and he jumped slightly, for I had not spoken in many hours.

'How so?'

'I have many documents in Tengwar that require translation, you can complete those if you prefer.' Legolas smiled, for it was apparent how much he disliked being useless.

The next few hours went sufficiently quicker, for Legolas was eager to complete the papers I gave to him and by the time we ended, I was shocked at how much we had accomplished.

My days fell into a routine of sorts from then on. Each morning, I would wake early so I could attempt to finish all of the necessary paperwork by the time Legolas was brought to my chambers. If I did not manage to complete them, the elf would aid me, and the remainder of our afternoons would be spent enjoying each other's company.

During the time we spent together, I offered Legolas naught buy my condolences, for I felt that if I were to advance upon him he would become fearful and withdraw. Apparently, they were enough, for the elf flourished under my care, and the hope I gave him during the days were enough to sustain him through the terrors he experienced at nights.

One night, after nearly three a month past our return to Minis Tirith, I was startled out of sleep by the sound of someone knocking loudly on my chamber door. Cursing, I rolled out of bed and fumbled around my bedroom floor until I found a tunic and breeches, then pulled them on and opened the door, glaring daggers at person on the other side.

To my surprise, it was not one person, but three. Boromir's guards waited for me, watching me in a manner that made my skin crawl.

'King Boromir orders your presence.' The first one spoke. They were all a head taller then me, and I knew them for the ones who could nearly best me in a fencing assault in the practice courts.

I sighed. 'At this hour?'

When I hesitated, casting a longing glance over my shoulder at my bed, they entered swiftly and forced me out. I threw my head in surprise, but did not resist for already two of them had grabbed my arms, and the third had started off towards our destination.

I glared, but did naught to evade their grip. They led me down the stone corridors, and to my surprise they passed Boromir's rooms and his study, leading me instead down the passages that took us into the less used areas of Minis Tirith.

I didn't voice my surprise, but followed them in silence. They would not have told me that Boromir ordered my presence unless it was true, for the consequences of fabricating a lie involving the King's word were dire.

At last we reached out intended destination, and the guard leading opened a door towards the end of the corridor. The two holding me forced me roughly inside and I bit my lip to stifle a cry when I tumbled to my knees, held there by their hands on my shoulders.

By this point, I was feeling the first prick of fear, for this was no meeting room, it was a cell devised to hold criminals. The insides were bare but for a pare of shackles secured to the floor in the center of the cell. No windows lined the walls, and a single torch was the source of light coming from within.

A sigh of relief escaped my parched lips when I looked up, noticing Boromir's presence directly before me. Legolas stood at his side, nervously clenching his fists.

Whatever sense of relief I felt at first was instantly crushed when the King looked upon me. His eyes were hard and black, his pupils expanded in the dark. His face was blank and when he saw my condition, instead of become angered with the guards, he smiled.

I risked a glance at Legolas. He was extremely pale and shaking to such an extent I was surprised that he could even remain upright. He could not even meet my gaze, and I had never seen him so upset.

'Strip his tunic,' Boromir ordered, his voice hardly containing his rage. The guards obeyed immediately, and I was too frozen with shock to stop them as they drug me to my feet and roughly pulled my tunic off my body.

'Boromir,' I asked, 'what is the meaning of this?'

The King's rage surfaced, and his eyes flashed in anger. 'Do no speak,' he said, his hands shaking as though his longed to wrap them around my throat.

By now I was sufficiently afraid. Desperately, I tried to catch Legolas' eye again, and when I succeeded, I could see my fear reflected in them.

'Secure him,' Boromir snapped, and though I fought to remain upright, they kicked my legs out from under me and pushed me forwards, holding my arms in place until they could secure the iron cuffs around my wrists.

I pulled back sharply, but it was too late, and my shoulders wrenched. I struggled for a few more seconds, twisting my hands, then gave up, trembling in spite of myself.

Boromir smiled in cruel satisfaction. 'Flog him.' He rolled the words around his mouth, savoring the after taste, his eyes glinting maliciously.

'Boromir, this is madness! Give me at least a reason!' I pulled back again, bucking my body to free myself from the shackles that kept me secure. Legolas fell to his knees, a small sob escaping his lips at the declaration of my fate, and Boromir kicked him in the ribs.

All at once, realization dawned on me.

He knew. Somehow, he had found out about my relationship with Legolas.

The guard stationed before me left my field of view, and the sound the returning footsteps caused carried with them my impending doom. A moment of silence hung heavily in the air, and then the sole warning I received was a rush of air before the leather whip connected with my skin.

The first lash landed across my shoulders and I yelped in surprise. The sharp sting it left in it's wake quickly morphed into unbearable agony, and I clenched my teeth to avoid crying out when a second blow was delivered, cutting across my lower back. A third followed that, crossing over my back and licking down my ribs.

I clenched my teeth and stared at the floor before me, trying to contain my energy, but with each delivered blow I could feel my body weakening. The pain was much sharper then anything I had experienced, for even the most fatal of my wounds I received were in battle when my adrenaline was rushing and I would hardly notice them until after the fight had subsided.

This was not the case. There was no way of escaping the leather whip that stripped my skin, pulling small moans and grunts from my mouth. At last, I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out the reality of what was happening.

My arms were shaking in sheer agony and I knew not how long they would be able to support me. My knees were braced apart on the cold floor, the unrelenting stone only adding to my discomfort, and I my shoulders were in such pain that I could not even think of pulling at my shackles. A small cry escaped the confines of my constricted throat and I bit my lip, for I would not allow Boromir the luxury of hearing how much pain I was in.

Legolas was crying, his sobs the only sound other then the swish of the whip and the small cries that were leaving my mouth at a remarkable rate. I opened my eyes, wishing to console him slightly, and found that my efforts were wasted, for he was kneeling at Boromir's side with the King's palm turned to him, licking and kissing the man's wrist and fingers in desperation. Among his tears were frantic pleas, begging for Boromir to release me.

My back was on fire, burning with the welts the leather left on my skin. I was strangely surprised that no blood was falling from my back onto the floor at my sides, for it felt as though my back was being torn to shreds. A louder cry escaped my lips as the guard beating me moved to stand at my side, laying vertical stripes from shoulder to hip.

I could no longer restrain myself, and with each lash I arched my back to evade the unbearable pain, crying out as new stripes were laid on top of former ones. My body shook fiercely and I knew it was only a matter or time before my arms gave out. I sent a quick prayer to the Valar, asking them to release me from my torture, and praying for the blackness that lurked just out of my reach.

The blows ceased momentarily as the whip was handed over to another guard, then the beating was resumed at in incredulous rate. They rained down faster, and my throat was beginning to feel raw. I writhed in agony and desperation. I no longer cared how I appeared, and I could no longer hear Legolas' sobs over my own cries.

The guard continued laying lash upon lash on my back, and by this point some of the welts were bleeding freely. I could feeling the stream of red trickling down my sides, and the whip was handed back to the original guard.

This time, the force behind the whip shattered whatever defenses I had, and my trembling arms gave way, collapsing under me. I was unaware that I had been crying until I felt my wet face press into my forearms, alerting me of just how far I had been pushed.

Eventually, my legs gave way as well, and I sobbed, choking on the lack of air, as my prostrate form was whipped again and again. Legolas was screaming now as well, his shrill voice a pitch above my own. My stomach curled, for he was but a child in elven standards, and no one so young should have to witness such a brutal beating first hand.

I cried out in despair, welcoming the blow to my temple moments later when I tumbled into darkness.

Foul liquid was emptied down my throat, causing me to choke and cough at the bitter taste. I attempted to pull my head away, only to find I could not, for a large hand was tangled in my hair and kept me in place.

I struggled briefly, pulling at my binds in despair until my captor withdrew and my body slumped to the floor, my limbs shaking in pain. I cried out as a boot connected with my ribs and the momentum carried me onto my side, forcing another pained cry as the cold stone floor was pressed against my burning ribs.

The room spun around me and I closed my eyes, stilling the tears that appeared at the realization that Boromir was not content with my state just yet. The concoction they had forced me to drink burned my throat and my chest, making even breathing a difficult task. I wondered vaguely if their draught to bring me back to consciousness would prevent my blacking out again, and nearly sobbed at the thought.

The beating was resumed, striking me continuously, but not without strategy. They laid blows where none had been dealt before, unwilling to risk knocking me out again. Before long, my arms and chest were also decorated with red welts and I could find no comfort in the stone below me, wet with blood that flowed freely from my many lacerations.

I could do no more then cry out softly by now, my voice was raw from screaming. With each lash my body jerked against my bonds and I sobbed in despair, wondering how Boromir could watch the beating and know that he was the cause of such pain.

At last, the darkness I had been longing for was within my grasp, and I felt my body go completely limp as unconsciousness took me. Even Boromir could not rouse me this time, for my mortal body teetering precariously close to the point of no return.

The feel of gentle fingers brushing my hair away from my face was the first indication of my return to the waking world. The second was the burning pain that had subsided only slightly since I had fallen incognizant.

'Ai, Aragorn, what has my brother done to you?' A soft voice reached my ears, and I struggled to make sense of the words.

I moaned in pain when my body shifted, and pried my heavy eyes open, trying to focus on the figure before me.

'Faramir?' I asked, the words making sense at last.

'Yes, my friend. It is I.' He was crouched at my side, his eyes dark with worry. The blood along the floor stained his breeches where his knees pressed into the stone, but he did not seem to care nor notice.

I lay still, for I could not muster enough energy to even raise my head. My body was on fire, and every movement, no matter how small, reminded me of the ordeal I had survived.

Faramir continued to run his fingers soothingly through my tangled hair, and I closed my eyes in humiliation, for I could not bear for him to see me in such a state. I respected and valued Faramir's friendship far more then I ever had Boromir's, and for him to see me wounded in such a way made my chest contract, adding the burden of a wounded heart to my many physical hurts.

Faramir's hand shook as he brushed it against my face, and I opened my eyes. Apparently, the pain I was feeling was evident in my gaze, for he gave me a shaky smile.

'You have no reason to be ashamed. My brother abused his position, and apparently his friends as well.' A hint of anger was detectable in his voice.

'Faramir,' I said, my voice raw from screaming, ' you must leave. If Boromir finds you-'

My words were cut short when he clapped his palm over my mouth. 'He will not find me Aragorn, he is dead.'

If I though my brain was reacting slowly to past words, it must have taken an eternity for those to make sense, and even longer to believe them.

'Dead?' I asked in shock.

Faramir nodded. 'His elf murdered him in the night.'

My mind was racing to comprehend. Legolas could not have killed Boromir, that I knew for certain.

'Nay, Faramir, he would not do such a thing.'

Faramir sighed. 'His hands were stained with my brother's blood, and he admitted to stabbing him.'

I lay in silence. This was far to much information for my wearied mind. Faramir watched me in concern, and I was unable to muster the energy to console him.

'I will go fetch a healer, do not move Aragorn,' he rose to his feet and left, his quiet footsteps magnified by the silence.

Thinking was difficult, and I did not have the energy to try to work out what had just been told to me. In my current condition, I feared even to believe that Boromir would not be around to repeat the beating, my body was suffering to badly for such a relief to be excepted. Keeping my eyes open was even a burden, and I allowed them to fall shut with a heavy sigh. My body relaxed and blackness took me again.

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By this point, you all know how vain I am. Please review!

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	5. Part 5

**Title**: Bound by Desire

**Part** : 5/5

**Author** : Swilite

**Rating**: R

**Pairings** : Aragorn/Legolas, Boromir/Legolas, Implied Boromir/Aragorn

**Warnings** : Slash, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything, it's just a fantasy we all share. Don't sue. All characters are wonderful figments of Tolkien's imagination.

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**PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If ANY of these themes bother you, do not read this story. I cannot emphasize it enough.**

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I drifted in and out of fever-induced delirium for the next while, never entirely able to comprehend the situation in which I now found myself. The only thing I was truly able to understand was that the pain that had knocked me out had subsided little, and that my arms were no longer bound together. When I did return to the waking world, I was hardly aware of it, for the room spun dizzily around me and I was unable to think logically, leaving me to wonder if I had even awoken at all.

On one such occasion I threw my head to rid myself of the monsters plaguing my mind, unaware that they existed only in my head. My vision was blurry and unfocused and from the intense glare of the light I knew my pupils were dilated, only adding to my pain. I moaned loudly and raised one leaden arm to cover my eyes, shielding myself from the relentless brightness.

My palm clapped over my eyes, giving me momentary repose only to focus on the many other pains afflicting my sick body.

'Manke naa amin? (Where am I?)' I whispered. Under my current condition, I was unaware of the language that I spoke, I knew it only to be the sole one I could focus on. I did notice, however, that talking only caused me more pain, for it hurt my throat to speak the words and my voice was rough and broken.

'Dina. Amin dela ten'lle, lle anta esta. (Be silent. I am worried about you, you must rest.)' I did not even recognize the language for what it was, I only knew that the hand placed upon my brow was cool and comforting and that the words sounded gentle and soft to my ears. I stilled and relaxed, titling my head to rest it in the supporting hand.

The next time I awoke I fared little better, although the pain had subsided slightly and moving my arm did not take all of my concentration. I twisted in the sweat soaked sheet surrounding my body and opened my eyes, blinking rapidly. I remembered little to none of the conversation I had had before, the only thing I could recall was the beating I had suffered and Boromir's malicious smile of contempt while I cried for mercy under the whip.

I shuddered in revulsion, closing my eyes and breathing deeply to still the spinning room. My attempt was unsuccessful and I remained still until sleep took me in an attempt to escape the relentless hell my tortured body dotted upon me.

Even in dreams I could not escape reality, for my dreams were more like nightmares. For hours the sole dreams that plagued me were ones in which I was unable to escape the faces of the guards who had whipped me, yet I was incapable of waking. My body was sick and beaten and was still trying to recover from the near fatal incident.

I know not how long I remained in the healing ward, for the draught Boromir had forced me to consume was the source of my sickness and even after my unconscious spells turned into deep dreams I was unable to find the repose that I needed to heal.

One day I awoke to find my condition had improved drastically, for I was no longer hallucinogenic and my body did not burn with raging fever. Although I still felt incredibly weary and drained, I did not want to return to sleep immediately and pushed myself onto my elbows, casting a curious glance around the room in which I was confined.

The air was heavy with healing herbs and I rubbed one hand over my tired eyes, chasing away the sleep that was setting in. My movement triggered a reaction by my bedside and I was shocked to find Legolas peering up at me through bleary eyes.

He had, apparently, been resting, for his arms were still crossed on top of my mattress and his chin rested by his wrists. His hair was in disarray, cascading down his back and falling across his arms and his silver eyes were dark with exhaustion. Upon seeing me, he smiled and lifted one hand, causing the chains attached to the manacles around both wrists to rattle, and resting it upon my arm.

'How do you feel, Estel?' he asked quietly. I was too shocked by his appearance and his statement, however, to reply immediately.

'Legolas!' I whispered when at last I found my voice. He smiled in reply and sat up on the chair situated at my bedside, gently pushing me back into the mattress with one hand on my chest.

'Yes, you are not hallucinating.'

'Why did you call me Estel?' I asked, trying to make sense of my predicament.

Legolas leaned over me, smiling. 'You speak much in your sleep. Why did you never tell me that you were reared in Imladris, or that the Lord Elrond was your adopted father?'

I could not answer, for in truth I had no reply.

Legolas' hand dropped from my chest to my side and traced a careful line along my ribs, applying slight pressure. I hissed in response and jerked away, glaring in spite of myself.

'You are not healing properly,' the elf said, and his eyes bellied the concerned tone of his voice. I remained silent, my eyes fluttering closed as I began slowly to recall the events of the past couple days.

'It was you who spoke to me in Sindarin,' I said quietly. Legolas murmured in agreement, his fingers tracing small circles through the cloth.

I reached up, clasping my palm over his hand and stilling his movement. Legolas smiled calmly and reached up with his free hand to brush unruly locks away from my face.

'You should sleep,' he said, 'you are not yet healed.'

'And yourself?' I asked, my eyes narrowed. 'You are far from attaining perfect health.'

Legolas smiled and rested his palm on my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. 'I am simply relieved that you are alright.'

The tone of his voice touched me deeply and I pulled him into a faint embrace before reclining, closing my eyes and resting peacefully for the first time since my beating.

I left the ward not a week after the encounter, and my first destination was predictably Legolas' cell. Faramir had informed me of where the elf was being kept and I was relieved to find that the guards had not taken the liberty of using their superior position to extend their rights into beating Legolas. Much to my surprise, he seemed well taken care of, considering the circumstances. The sole restraints he bore were the manacles around his wrists that I had witnessed previously, and his many wounds had been tended to.

He was as delighted to see me as I was to see him, and in the next couple hours were spent deep in discussion. It was during that time that I learnt of reason behind Boromir's madness.

As with all nights prior to the night of his death, he had taken Legolas, but to the elf's surprise the former King had not been as rough as he had in previous encounters. He had still forced himself upon his unwilling consort, but for the first time since his capture Boromir had taken the elf gently, more akin to a lover then to an owner. When Legolas came, it was my name he had cried.

The elf had not immediately realized his dire mistake, and it was only when Boromir threw him to the ground and began to beat him that Legolas realized his blunder, yet by that point there was naught he could do. Eventually, Boromir had withdrawn and summoned his guards, ordering them to bring me to the dungeon in which I would be beaten. Legolas had begged his master, telling him that his desires had never expanded beyond his imagination and that I should not be punished for his thoughts, but Boromir had retorted in kind, saying that he should not have trusted me. Apparently, he had seen my expression when I cast eyes upon the elf, but he had continually left Legolas in my presence for the sole sake of tempting me, believing that I was too loyal to take what I did not belong to me.

From there, Legolas was led to the cell and forced to wait in silence as Boromir degraded him with his hands and with his words until I arrived. I had no doubt that he would have continued to torment the elf before my eyes had he not been so intent on hurting me, and I was thankful that that, at least, was something to which I had not been subjected.

Over the next week I spent many hours in Faramir's company, and found in him a better friend then I could ever have believed possible. During those days was when I finally admitted by my true feelings for the elf, and to my shock it came to the new King as no surprise.

The day of Legolas' trial I was sent to bring him from his cell and tend to him, for he was to attend dressed as his heritage dictated, not the situation. He was glad to see me, and his elation only increased when I unlocked his wrists from the shackles around them. When we left the cell, he kept close to me to avoid the touches of the few bold guards who were brave enough to run their hands over his body as he passed or cup his backside in their palms, and I pretended not to notice.

We reached my chambers and Legolas entered, looking relaxed and at ease in my presence. I surprised him by taking the pile of clothes I had selected earlier and handing them to him, for it was apparent by their very texture that these were not raiment suited for a prisoner. He raised one eyebrow in question and excepted the tunic and leggings I passed to him.

'Is there some occasion of which I should be notified?' he asked.

'Your trial is today,' I replied, watching his reaction.

Legolas gave a small gasp and nearly dropped the garments in his surprise. I laughed, for he looked so young and vulnerable in his shock, and then gathered him in my arms and pressed a quick kiss to his parted lips.

We arrived at the trial early as Faramir had dictated, and though I was nervous, my attention was not on the event about to take place. I had guessed correctly in choosing suitable attire for the elf, and I was unable to take my gaze off of him. He had pulled his hair back into traditional Sinda braids, one on either side of his head, pinned together at the back, his pointy ears exposed completely. His hair had been brushed and hung down his back in a curtain of gold, and I longed desperately to run my fingers through his silky locks.

Legolas looked magnificent in hues of green, and judging by the tempting looks he kept directing at me he was aware of how my body was reacting to his appearance. I considered throttling him where he stood, for if he batted his lashes at me or wet his lips with his tongue one more time I was certain I would certainly loose control of myself.

'Aragorn, you look flustered. Are you alright?' he asked, and actually managed to sound slightly concerned. I glared at him, but was saved from a verbal reply by Faramir's entrance.

The room fell silent as he took his seat at the head of the hall, and when he looked to where I was seated with the elf, even Faramir could not contain his reaction at the sight of the elf sitting next to me.

When Legolas was called forth, the hall was engulfed in complete silence. I pulled my eyes from the sight before me to glance over my shoulder at the many soldiers present and clenched my fists, recognizing the look of primal lust on their faces. I schooled my face to impassiveness and returned my gaze to the elf, noting how tightly he gripped the railing before him in his nervousness. His eyes darted back to me and I gave him a quick, encouraging smile.

When Legolas announced himself as Legolas, son of Thranduill, none in the hall save Faramir seemed as shocked by the declaration as I. Yet that should have come as no surprise, for the men of Minis Tirith were vain and knew little beyond that which was connected to their own race. One look at Faramir convinced me that his time studying elves had been well spend, for I was not the sole person to recognize Thranduill as the King of Mirkwood.

As Faramir had predicted, the trial soon ended and Legolas was released, free of charges. None had spoken out against the elf, though I was certain this was due to much different reasons then those that should have been. An intelligent being would have recognized that to sentence Legolas to death would have brought the force of an elven army so great Minis Tirith could not begin to imagine the lives that would be lost, but few were able to recognize the threat. Instead, when Legolas returned to his seat at my side and the trial was declared adjourned, I caught many men watching him, their expressions those of undisguised desire. They believed, without a doubt, that with Boromir no longer around to punish those who advanced upon the elf they could easily attain their desires.

I had grown weary of the world of men. As much as I enjoyed being among my own race, I soon found myself spending many days desiring to be free of their company. I longed to be among elves yet again, for it had been many decades since I had walked through the gardens of Imladris or spoken with those I would call family. I no longer cursed the Valar for leading Legolas into Boromir's clutches, for had he not arrived I may never have realized that, though I still lived among men, my heart remained among elves.

And so, it was those emotions that led me to Faramir's chambers one night, and caused me to confess that I would be departing within the week. I gave him no indication of how long I would be gone, for none was needed. Although the King seemed sorrowed by my departure, he was not in the least bit surprised.

When I rode out of the city not two days later, Legolas was at my side. He was in a state of shock, for when he had awoken that morning the very last thing he had been expecting to hear was that he would at last be rid of the city in which he had been contained and suffered so much abuse. He was even more surprised when I told him that I would be departing with him, but the gratification I had been rewarded with left no doubt in my mind that I had made the correct choice.

We pressed the pace that day, riding as hard as we could to leave Minis Tirith far behind. By the time we set camp the sun had already set. The sky was overcast and threatened to rain, and so we chose to rest in the woods. As I lay down the bedroll we would share, Legolas gathered wood for the fire. When he did not return immediately I did not worry, but after what I believed to have been a sufficient amount of time to have passed I began to look for him, my protectiveness leading me to believe the worst.

I found Legolas not far from camp. He stood in the middle of a clearing, his arms stretched up and out above his head, the beginning of the rain pooling in his palms and sliding down his arms to dampen the light tunic through which twin dusky circles were visible on his chest. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, and with each breath his chest rose and fell visibly. His neck was arched and his head tipped back, on his face a veil of sheer ecstasy.

When he felt my eyes upon him, he dropped his arms back down to his sides and opened his eyes, watching me with a small smile and beckoned for me to approach with one finger.

I felt hesitant to break the moment, for in my eyes Legolas had never appeared so fair nor so glorious as he did at this moment. Perhaps, like an animal, he could sense my hesitancy, for his smile broadened and he took a step towards me, his body swaying slightly with the action.

'Are you afraid, son of Gondor?' he asked, his voice music to my ears. Each word a melodious chord, and I found myself unable to resist his charm.

'Of you?' I asked, the corners of my mouth lifting to match his wolfish grin. I stepped forwards, my indecision broken. 'Never.'

Legolas smiled when I reached him, and the rain that began a few moments later was a welcome relief, the freezing water cooling our overheated skin. I wrapped my arms around him and slid one hand under his tunic, resting my palm against his bare skin. A shiver of delight passed through his lithe body and he pressed himself closer to me in reply.

It was the first time I had even been able to hold him freely, for my life over the past month had become a facade to hide what I could not deny. His body was a welcome weight in my arms, and I couldn't help the sigh of contentment that passed my lips.

Legolas raised one hand, running it through my now soaking locks, his fingers brushing the skin of my neck as they descended. His face was flushed in delight, his eyes shinning with desire. I was oblivious to the rain that chilled my body, my attention was focused on the manner Legolas' thin clothes clung to the curves of his slim body.

Legolas moved his head beside my own, his breath warming my neck. 'What do we do now?' his asked, his voice dripping with sin. My own breathing hitched and my chest contracted at those words, earning myself another of those wolfish grins from the elf in my arms.

I used my free hand to tip his face upwards. His breath ghosted over my face, and when I leant forwards the portion of an inch that was needed his lips parted in submission and he placed one hand on my lower back, urging me as close as was physically possible. I complied, pressing my torso against his own, and he melted into my embrace, his body molding to fit against my own. Chest to chest, groin to groin, and toe to toe we shared the deepest kiss I had ever experienced. I used my mouth to tip his head back an inch more to deepen the kiss even further.

Legolas' sweet taste invaded my senses as my tongue explored the cavern of his mouth, our lips moving in complete synchronization as my tongue delved deeper, his small moan vibrating against my lips. I groaned quietly in reply and turned my head to taste him from another angle, my eyes closed tightly in bliss.

Legolas' hand on my back bunched in my wet tunic and the fingers of his opposite hand tangled in my hair. He leant into my embrace, shielding my chest from the rain that continued to fall, soaking my back and head. I felt the water running down my face and my arms and welcomed the cool sense of reality that came with the sensation, for without it I would not have remembered the moment so vividly. I was caught between two extremities, the rain's chilling touch and Legolas' overheated body, and I pulled him closer as I began to shiver.

When we broke our lip lock, we did not withdraw, but rather panted heavily in each other's embrace. Legolas rested his head against my chest and I tipped my chin up to rest on the top of his head, closing my eyes to avoid the sting of the rain. For long minutes we remain as two spent swimmers clinging to each other in deep water until Legolas' hand slid up my back, aware of the tremors that racked my body.

'Are you cold, Aragorn?' he questioned, though the answer was obvious. He moved out of my embrace and took my hand in his own, seeking cover under one of the taller trees surrounding the clearing. I followed him in silence and noticed for the first time the small shivers that he sought to hide.

I leaned back against the trunk of the tree under which we had taken momentary refuge, pulling Legolas into my arms and resting him against my chest. His fingers traced my face and he closed his eyes, his lips pressing butterfly kisses along the trails his hands had taken.

I wrapped one arm around his slim waist and held the other between his shoulder blades. I tipped my head back as his mouth moved down to my neck , murmuring encouragement as his lips caressed my throat.

When Legolas moved his head back upwards to capture my lips in a kiss, I allowed, even encouraged, him to take control, eager to see what he would do and how far he would go. When I slipped my tongue back into my mouth, allowing his own to follow, he felt timid and reluctant, moving slowly. I did not press him, but encouraged him, moaning quietly and arching my back when one of his hands slipped down my spine.

Legolas' roaming hands moved up my chest, pulling franticly at the ties of my tunic. He quickly dispatched of the garment and I shrugged my shoulders, allowing it to pool at my feet before repeating the action on him. He groaned in pleasure and his fingers played across my body while I unclothed him, lost in the bliss his skilled hands supplied. I slipped his leggings off the curves of his hips and his mouth broke away as he withdrew, kicking the restricting garment off his ankles.

I leaned back as Legolas sunk to his knees before me, and the sight of the young elf naked before me was nearly my undoing. He wrapped his hands around my leggings and pulled them slowly downwards, worshipping each inch of flesh with his mouth, yet persistently ignoring my straining erection. He licked down the insides of my knees, and I gripped the tree behind me, thankful for the extra support.

Legolas rose to his feet, whispering nonsensical words in his native language. I stepped away from the tree and folded my legs beneath me, reclining onto the wet ground until Legolas' arm surrounding my shoulders stopped me. He folded one slim leg on either side of my body and seated himself on my thighs. I admired the passionate expression reflected within his eyes and he smiled, brushing wayward strands of hair away from my face.

I trailed my hand down Legolas' body and noted the shivers that the simple action produced. His body arched as I reached his lower back, and his eyes fluttered when our hips made contact.

I soon lost my ability to reason, for Legolas was in the same state of mind as I, and we did not delay in our teasing or foreplay. Only after the rain had stopped and we were resting in silence did my ability to think rationally return. As we had progressed I had retaken control, exerting dominance over my willing, submissive lover. I lay now on my back, looking up towards the heavens while my hands caressed Legolas' body, sprawled across my chest. He had yet to catch his breath and the sole sound that broke the still air was that of his ragged panting.

I ran my fingers through Legolas' hair, feeling his back rise and fall with each breath he took. He twisted his body so that he may rest facing me, his passionate silver eyes nearly shinning in the moonlight that was beginning to seep through the thinning clouds overhead. His lips were swollen from the force behind our kisses and his body was aglow with sweat just beginning to cool.

'Aragorn,' he whispered, his melodic voice carrying easily to my ears, 'where are you bound for?'

I tipped my head, watching his face where it rested on my chest. 'I wish to return to Imladris,' I told him.

He nodded as best he could. 'May I come with you?' he asked. 'My father will not object to my stay in Rivendell, Lord Elrond is a close companion of my father's.'

I smiled. 'Of course, I have no desire to leave you.'

He sighed happily and fell silent, content with the answer I had given to him. The silence between us was a comfortable one, and I tipped my head back, searching the night sky for Earendil.

We eventually returned to camp and I lit a small fire close to the bedroll to keep us warm while Legolas lay down and watched me, his eyes half lidded in fatigue. By the time I crawled in with him, he had already succumbed to dreams. Subconsciously, he nuzzled in closer to me when I stretched out beside him, and I wrapped one arm protectively around his waist.

I listened to Legolas' quiet breathing, the sound lulling me sleep, pulling the sheet up higher around our bodies and closing my eyes. Still, I thought before the peace of sleep claimed me completely, I could not return home soon enough. I missed the last homely house and my adoptive family terribly. Soon we would reach Imladris, and it would be good to be home again. There, at last, I could settle down and have a chance to rest.

**THE END**

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